


Bacchus

by ellerkay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Mardi Gras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 09:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17999348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: Dean is crowned King of Mardi Gras.





	Bacchus

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Jensen's delightful turn as Bacchus for Mardi Gras 2019. I couldn't stop thinking, "What if it was Dean?"
> 
> This was dashed off and posted with fewer read-throughs and time than I normally give even short fics. I think I had to post it before I could change my mind. I'm not sure if I should be proud or I should be stopped. :P

“I’m not going to call you that,” Sam said, expression set in full bitchface.

“You have to. It’s the law.”

“It’s not the _law_! And I wouldn’t even call you King of the Impala if you tried to make me.” Dean’s eyes lit up, and Sam’s scowl grew deeper. “Not to give you any ideas.”

“Maybe next month. But for now, I am Bacchus, King of Mardi Gras! Kneel before me!”

Sam groaned. “How did this even happen? Isn’t it usually a celebrity?”

“Yeah, but this year they had a contest and anybody could win.”

“And you won?”

“I guess I wrote the best essay.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dean, you can’t do a big public thing like this. We’re legally dead.”

Dean frowned. “Are we still?”

“Even if we’re not, what are you going to tell the press? You can’t exactly chat about your family or what you do for a living!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, if only I had some practice lying to people.”

***

“Also, are you really going to wear that?” Sam asked. Mardi Gras weekend had arrived, and they were in New Orleans. Dean was supposed to be changing into his king outfit, which was…a lot.

Dean stared at it with wide eyes.

“Don’t forget the crown,” Sam said, tossing it to him. Dean examined it and made a ‘not bad’ face. That was just fine with Sam, though, because he had one more ace up his sleeve.

“And the boots. With the tights,” Sam continued, pointing to where they sat. He was certain that this would change Dean’s mind. Surely a runner-up could be located easily. There must be plenty of people clamoring to do this ridiculous job.

Dean gave him a pained expression, then heaved a sigh and got into the changing cubicle that had been set up for him and shut the curtain.

“Really?!” Sam said in disbelief. “You’re going to wear that? In public? _You_?”

Dean poked his head out again. “Dude. There are people out there counting on me. And lots of them are girls. Girls who need beads. It’s Mardi Gras, Sammy. _The girls need their beads._ ” He grinned widely and closed the curtain again.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been translated into Russian by TModestova; see it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098090).


End file.
